They lived in a castle, the same place she had been turned in. ‘Moreover, no one will believe any more that Yolande is me when they see this. Wood," said she, in the deep, hoarse accents of consumption; "and may God Almighty bless and reward you for your kindness! You were always the best of masters to my poor husband; and now you've proved the best of friends to his widow and orphan boy. I made a wrong choice, it seems—but my voice remains. She breathed into a cloth soaked in rose oil as Sebastian had prescribed, but the smell of roses mixed obscenely with the smell of death and decay, causing her to retch. He whispered in her ear.
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